


It's Best To Move On

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Sirius is dead. Harry is guilt ridden. Nothing will ever be the same again. But can a conversation with his dead godfather convince him that things will be alright? Will he remember it's best to never let himself forget and allow himself to move on?





	It's Best To Move On

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Soft voices echoed through the lighted corridors in the early hours of the morning. The sounds of birds chirping could be heard as they awakened from their blissful slumber and soared against the brilliance of the ever rising sun.

Harry walked alone down the corridor- his friends still imprisoned under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. He had stepped in for only a moment, just to see for himself that they were indeed doing alright. Madam Pomfrey had managed to sort them out well enough, he supposed, and he felt a strong urge of affection for the elderly woman for being able to patch up at least one of his many mistakes from only a few short hours ago.

Every step he took down the tiled flooring seemed entirely too loud as they reverberated in his ears. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to stay with Ron and Hermione back in the Hospital Wing. At least he'd have something to hopefully keep his thoughts at bay. But even still, he knew he wanted nothing more than to be alone for the rest of his life.

When at last he had reached the stairway to the Gryffindor Common Room, he climbed upward, gripping the rail tightly in his hand, ignoring the groaning of the other staircases as they moved from their positions. He mumbled the password, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground causing him to nearly collide into several people as they made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

How was it possible that they even still cared for food? Harry himself wished nothing more than to never take another single bite. It would only taste bland, and as it wound it's way down his throat and into his stomach he knew he would never feel full. For nothing could ever fill that empty feeling that had settled deep within him.

How was it possible that anyone even cared about beautiful sunrises and birds singing their love for a brand new day in which to enjoy life? What good was anything anymore if Sirius wasn't there to be a part of it?

As Harry reached the flooring to his dorm, he fought the urge to run inside and sick up. It would only be dry heaves anyway... there was nothing left inside of him.

Harry never felt more relieved to find his dorm room empty. It would be best if people weren't there to see the 'Great Savior of the Wizarding World' lay on his bed while tears poured freely from his bright emerald eyes. But that title was a lie; he had not saved Sirius.

The mere though of Sirius had his stomach contracting painfully, but for the time being he welcomed it. It was the only thing in the world that seemed real to him at that moment. While he was sure that thinking about Sirius would have him in tears, he found to his surprise as he reached to dab at his eyes that there was no moisture at all.

Why hadn't he listened to Hermione or any of the others? Were they right; did he have a 'saving people' problem? But he found that he didn't care anymore about anything... at least at that moment. All he cared about, and all he wished he could stop thinking about was Sirius and the fact that it had been his fault this his godfather was no longer with him.

All he had ever wanted, from the time he was a child, was a family. Sirius had been his family, and yeah, he may have been an idiot in believing that his godfather was in danger, but he would have done anything to keep him safe and with him. But now he had neither- no family and Sirius was lost to him forever.

He would have liked to go to sleep and perhaps take a dreamless sleeping potion from Snape's stores, but he found, no matter how hard he tried, that rest would not come to him. He was definitely tired of course, but the night's events drove him on, constantly mocking him. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville all got hurt because of me. Sirius is dead because of me.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, and in his blinding anger, he punched at his bedpost, nearly breaking his hand as a horrible cracking noise sounded though his ears. But he didn't care. He welcomed the pain. It couldn't be any worse than what he had caused the others with his actions.

He felt his throat constrict painfully, but refused to let the hot angry and sad tears fall from his eyes. He was not a baby. So Sirius wad dead. Big deal. It wasn't as though he weren't use to having everyone he loved die. It was probably for the best anyway. Better for Sirius to be dead now than when he was free and had finally given Harry the home and family he had promised him years ago.

Before he knew what had happened, he found himself hunched over the bed, his head in his hands, feeling hot tears trickle down his cheeks. He allowed himself a small moment of weakness, before heaving a big sigh and composing himself once more.

Reaching underneath the bed, he pulled out his trunk, intent on finding more things to throw and break as he had done in Dumbledore's office. The blinding rage was about ready to take over him, but before it had a chance to do so he looked curiously at the first object in his hand, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he noticed that the poorly wrapped package had been from Sirius. He had yet to open it since Sirius had given it to him after Christmas.

He looked over the small scribbled note, and immediately felt his heart jump within him. If this were true, if it were really true, than maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to have another moment with his godfather. There weren't enough words to somehow relay to Sirius just how sorry he was for everything that had happened, but he was for sure as hell going to try.

He took a quick breath, and holding it in for a small moment, he released it. “Sirius.” Harry said to the mirror. Nothing happened. He tried again, this time more forcefully. “Sirius.” Again, nothing happened.

Harry was quickly become worried. Had Sirius not had the mirror with him when he fell behind the veil? And even if he did, was it still able to be used now that Sirius was dead?

He felt anger course through him. How dare Sirius give him false hope? How dare Sirius let him believe that Harry was going to be able to speak with him once more? But a horrible realization dawned on him; if he had just opened that package when Sirius had first given it to him, he might have been able to prevent any of this from happening.

Harry never felt more ashamed and more angry in all his life. He was ready to throw the mirror, ready to throw away the last chance he ever had of speaking with his godfather again when he heard someone call his name.

“Harry Potter, don't tell me that you're about ready to throw that mirror?” said an amused voice, and bringing his hand down, he stared- mouth agape- at the smirking face of his godfather.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, his stomach uncoiling slightly as he stared almost hungrily into his godfather's face. “Sirius.” Harry said, almost saying it like a question, as though he couldn't believe he was talking with his dead godfather.

Sirius' warm chuckling was the best noise in the world to Harry at the moment. “Yeah, kid, it's me. Surprised?”

“Hell, yeah.” Harry breathed. “I- I don't believe this. How-”

“Not sure kiddo, so don't ask. I'm a bit new at this 'dead' thing, you know?” Sirius teased. He saw Harry look away from the mirror, and inwardly cursed himself for joking at a time like this. Of course, Harry was upset. And while he couldn't be there in person to give his godson comfort in his time of grieving, he would do his very best to do it this way, but wishing nothing more than to take the kid into his arms and hold him forever.

“Harry?” Sirius asked quietly. Harry immediately turned his gaze towards the mirror again, sucking a bit on his lower lip. “Listen kid, I know it probably doesn't seem like it right now, and it won't for a while, but believe me when I say that things will be alright.”

“How can you say that?” Harry attempted to shout, but his voice was still a bit hoarse from those minutes he had screamed for Sirius and after he had shouted and raged in Dumbledore's office.

“Because I've been there.” Sirius told him quietly. “More than once, actually. The day James and Lily died, I felt my life was over. I realized however, that I still had you, and that kept me going. Even after all those years in Azkaban, you kept me going Harry. If for nothing else, I thank you for that.”

But how could Sirius thank him when it had been all his fault? Didn't Sirius realize that he should hate Harry right now?

“Hey,” Sirius' soft reprimanding tone broke through his thoughts. “Don't think like that.” He saw the look on his godson's face and immediately knew where his mind had gone. For once, many years ago, that had been the look that had crossed Sirius' face. He knew exactly what the kid was thinking.

“Don't think like what?” Harry asked bitterly, as he tried and failed to exude an air of innocence.

Sirius gave him a knowing look. “Don't try me, kid. You'll never win. I'm too stubborn.” He teased slightly, giving Harry a quick wink. He sobered once more. “I want you to listen to me very carefully Harry; what happened at the ministry wasn't your fault.”

“But-”

“Shut up and listen,” Sirius said sternly. “It was not your fault. And Harry yes, I'm dead, but on no certain terms do I blame you and you shouldn't either.”

“But it is my fault,” Harry said almost desperately. “It is Sirius. I shouldn't have gone there. But I thought you were in danger and I just couldn't sit back and watch you...”

Sirius smiled sadly at him. “I feel the exact same way Harry. You are the most important thing in my life and though I'm not there anymore it doesn't mean I won't be watching over you and I'll never stop loving you. When you love someone as much as I love you, you hold them in your heart forever.”

Harry felt tears prickle his eyes, but he listened intently, nearly drowning in the effect Sirius' words had on him. “I didn't want to believe you were gone,” Harry mumbled. He swallowed thickly. “For a while I thought you were just hiding and I became mad, but then I realized that you would never do that to me. That was when I realized you were-.... I'm sorry Sirius. I thought that when I was finally able to talk to you again it would be easier for me to apologize, but it's not.”

“Oi, Harry,” he quipped softly. “If you say that again, I'm going to reach through this damn mirror and choke you.”

But even Sirius' slight joking didn't seem to have any effect on Harry. “I know you think things will never be the same, and they won't. You'll always have this empty feeling inside, but somehow along the road you find you've been able to move on.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Harry said softly.

“No,” Sirius replied, shaking his head. “It's never that easy. But it's a part of life. You're not weak Harry. You and I both know that. Your life is worth living and you still have more to live for. Far more. I want you to promise me Harry that you'll always keep fighting. Keep fighting and keep staying strong. Those are the two important things. But most of all Harry, I want you to promise me that you'll be happy. If all else fails, keep a smile on your face. You'll find it can get you through anything.”

“Those are a lot of expectations, Padfoot,” Harry said, finally allowing himself to smile and tease back. “But I suppose I can do that. At least for you.”

“Good man.” Sirius said softly. “Alright, now it's time for me to go.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed horrified. “But- but you just got here.” he sputtered.

“I don't have anymore time Harry,” Sirius said sadly. “I was only allowed this small moment. And after-all, it's not as though we're not going to see each other again is it?”

Harry looked at him oddly. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on you nutter.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “You heard those voices in the archway didn't you? They were just lurking out of sight that's all. You'll find that true with me too. I'm still with you Harry, even when you can't see me, but if you listen closely enough you'll always hear me.”

Harry sat and stared into the mirror for what seemed like hours and finally he heaved a big sigh. “So... I guess this is goodbye then.” he said, feeling his throat constrict once more.

“No,” Sirius said firmly. “Never goodbye. Just 'until we meet again.'”

“When will that be for a reckon?” Harry asked.

“I haven't the faintest clue Harry, but until then it's probably best to just-”

“Move on.” Harry finished lamely. “Yeah, I kind of figured that.”

“Hey,” Sirius said. “Moving on doesn't mean forgetting.”

“It doesn't?” Harry asked.

“Never. Now why don't you put away your mirror and have a rest. You look exhausted.”

“A fair bit,” Harry remarked giving a small yawn.

Sirius chuckled. “I imagine so. Well, goodnight Harry. Sweet dreams.”

“Wait!” Harry said before Sirius could go. “If I think of you before I sleep you'll be there yeah?”

“In your dreams?” Sirius asked. “That's up to you I figure. But in your heart? We'll, I'll always be there. You can't get rid of me, kid. Sorry to rain on your parade, but your stuck with me forever.”

For the first time in what seemed like years, Harry finally gave a laugh. “Night, Sirius.”

“Good night, Harry. I love you.” Sirius' voice warbled away and Harry noticed that he was staring back at his own reflection. Stuffing the mirror back inside- thinking it would come in handy one day- he stretched out on his bed once more.

As he shut his eyes, sleep finally came over him, and he found himself smiling when he recognized the bark like laughter that surrounded him.

For the first time since the ministry, Harry realized that the terrible ache seemed to have eased away... if only a bit. But it was enough.


End file.
